Once Upon A Time

I look a little like someone who used to be a good swimmer once.

There were Junior Olympics and Far Westerns. There were CIFs (California Interscholastic Federation) and Most Commited awards. That's not a typo, by the way. Or, well, I mean it is...but that's what the trophy says.

Once upon a time, I was a contender.

Not. Any. More.

There is a pool near my house. Yesterday, the weather was finally nice enough that I decided to try out the lap swimming pool. I felt like I looked darn good for having had a nine year absence from any kind of formal swimming. (And, really, it's more like ten.) I felt like I looked darn good...for the first 50 yards. While I managed to push through to just over a half mile, I was not looking so good for the last 950. I felt okay other than my spaghetti legs and my aching triceps. But when I went to get out I realized just how out of shape I truly am. I could barely haul myself out of the pool. I felt like I was going to pass out. I hurt in places I forgot existed.

When I got home and got in the shower, I almost toppled into the curtain. I did not feel good. I did not have that swimmer's high. But then I ate dinner. Once I had some energy back in the old tank I was feeling pretty good. I thought I would ache in every single place today and I don't.

What's incredible to me is just how much swimming is exactly like riding a bike. You step away from it for nine years and you still remember how to do a flip turn.